Coming Home
by Shy Snootles
Summary: Anguished and heartbroken after her conversation with Baroness Schraeder, Maria leaves the von Trapp family house in the middle of the night leaving just a short note behind. But a certain Captain will find said note much earlier than anyone would expect.


It's been ten and a half years since I posted my last TSOM story. I _never_ left the fandom behind. As a matter of fact, I started writing three stories, but as it unfortunately happens, massive Writer's blocks prevented me from finishing them.

Three and a half months ago, I got a fourth plot bunny for a TSOM story and, miraculously, I got to write the words "THE END" this time. You have no idea how happy I am to contribute something to this fandom, even if this particular cliche has been used a million times before (and _much_ better!)

I just want to clarify a couple things first, before you read it (if you want, that is).

1.- All the stories I write tend to gravitate towards a single/unified timeline, it doesn't matter if I'm writing "what ifs", canon divergence plots or whatever. Somehow, I always end up mentioning conversations or events that have transpired in stories previously written. This one is no exception. I bring up a couple conversations Maria and Georg had in my story "The Summons of the Heart." It's not necessary to have read it first, though; I just wanted to let you know.

2.- This is VERY important, because it's something about the text that ff keeps messing up every time I try to upload it. When I wrote Maria's note to Georg, I crossed out the first two letters of the word "Dear", BUT ff refuses to show the half-crossed out word. So, when you read Georg's reaction to it, you WON'T be seeing it in the uploaded text. Please, keep that it mind or it could be confusing.

I have no proofreader and since English isn't my first language, I apologize for any typos/grammar mistakes/weirdly constructed sentences that may hinder your enjoyment of the story.

I hope you like it. Thank you for your time and thank you for reading!

* * *

The sound of the door closing behind her brought home with dreadful finality that this was truly the end. The end of her time together with the children she'd come to adore and the man who... who'd come to mean more than anything she'd ever known before.

Like an automaton, Maria began to walk – to walk away from the villa and the family that had taken her in and accepted her like no one ever had. Bravely, she put one foot in front of the other, increasing the distance between them for good. She looked down at the gravel and focused on the crunching sound it made beneath her boots.

_Don't look back. Don't look back..._

And she didn't. Not even when the loud clang of the closing iron gate flung open the floodgates inside her. Holding her head up high, staring at the road straight ahead, she ventured out into the night. Alone. As she'd always been. The view before her got blurry as her eyes gathered with tears that eventually slid down her cheeks.

She didn't sob, she made no sound. A stranger to crying for almost a decade, now she had been broken by love and loss, not violence. What hurt the most, she couldn't tell.

* * *

"Ready, darling?"

Elsa's voice brought Georg out of his introspection. Plastering a distracted smile on his face, he turned to her.

"Yes," he nodded, taking her by the arm and walking with her to the dining room. They were the last ones to arrive, and after giving a polite nod to his guests he held the chair for Elsa, who took her seat gracefully. It was when he was about to sit down beside her that he noticed his gloves were missing. Quickly thinking back, the last time he remembered holding them had been in the living room where he had sought refuge after his confrontation with Herr Zeller.

The mere thought of that Nazi sycophant made him clench his teeth, and he fought to not look up and find him wherever he was sitting at the table. At_ his_ table.

A sudden surge of seething anger gave him the perfect reason to excuse himself and go look for his gloves, _and_ compose himself in the meantime. Informing Elsa of his intentions and squeezing her shoulder in reassurance, he left the dining room. Striding out into the hall, he came face to face with his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Snorting self-deprecatingly at it, he looked down and that's when he saw a lonely envelope leaning against the vase on the table right under the mirror.

Frowning in surprise, he walked up to the table and picked it up. It was addressed to him in an all-too-familiar and lovely handwriting.

His insides twisted with an instant feeling of foreboding, and he practically tore the envelope open.

Dear Captain,

I'm very sorry for leaving like this, but I feel that my time with you has come to an end. I miss my life at the Abbey; the call is too strong.

Please, say goodbye to the children for me.

I wish you all the happiness in the world. You deserve it more than anyone.

Sincerely,

Maria.

Utterly appalled, Georg read the note over and over in a bewildered effort to understand.

I-It couldn't be. It simply _couldn't_. She'd never given anwy indication that she missed her life at the Abbey _that_ much. In fact, judging from their late night conversations, he got the feeling that she actually _dreaded_ the time when she had to return. He had seen it in her eyes. Her doubts. Her misgivings. What had changed so suddenly to make her leave in the middle of the night?

_You know what has changed... At least, for you._

Georg's eyes fell closed as he forced himself to assimilate the reality of the situation.

She was gone. Gone. From his life. From his children's lives.

His eyes burst open. Good God, how was he going to tell the children? It would crush them.

No. No. Nononono. She couldn't be gone. Not like that. Not because of him. For he had the nagging suspicion that he was greatly responsible for this. That _he_ had driven her away. It was too much of a coincidence that she had left practically after...

The Läendler.

It all came back to him in a merciless flashback. The exquisite feeling of her gliding in his arms like an angel, filling them like she belonged in them. The exposed, vulnerable look on her face when she'd looked up into his eyes and the world had stopped... And her flustered retreat, when he'd detected the barest hint of... Not fear exactly, but of... of... what?

Maybe he should... But no, he couldn't go after her to demand an explanation. It wasn't his place to question her decision and to be honest, the feeling of rejection, of having been dismissed from her life with such a cold, impersonal note, stung.

But still, it hurt. It hurt _so much_!

Rubbing the bridge of his nose to relieve the incoming headache, Georg turned helpless eyes to the note, desperate to find a hidden meaning there. A hint, a nuance, as small as it was, that helped him to understand why she had made a choice so cowardly, so cruel.

Dear Captain,

I'm very sorry for l-

His eyes moved up to the very first word. Why had she crossed out the first two letters only? Did she think she had taken too much of a liberty by calling him "Dear"? That maybe she would be misinterpreted? A tiny smile crossed his lips at that. If she thought so, why hadn't she written a second note and disposed of the first? Was she in such a hurry... _or_ in such distress...?

The grandfather clock struck the time, and Georg gasped out loud. It was very late, and probably there were no buses at this hour. The image of her, walking alone in the dark all the way to Salzburg... It was reckless, not to mention stupid.

His mind began supplying all kinds of nasty scenarios, and yielding to the fear they inspired, and to his heart's aching need, he found himself running upstairs to his study to get the car keys. She couldn't have been gone for too long, but he wasn't taking any chances.

* * *

It felt like she had been walking for hours. She was soul-tired and yet her thoughts kept returning to the same scene. Time and time again.

The dance. THE DANCE.

How could something that had started out so innocently have turned into...?

Her eyes closed at the oh-so-vivid memory. It was frightening. It was terrifying. And the most meaningful moment of her entire life.

This... feeling. She had been living with it for quite a while now. But only in his presence, and when they were alone in particular, the feeling became something... unsettling. No, not unsettling. Being with him was anything but unsettling.

But something had definitely changed. Something about her. Something _inside_ her. And it all had come to a head when she had met his eyes during the Läendler.

There were no words to describe... The trepidation, the chills running up and down her spine as she moved within the circle of his arms. As the dance progressed, that "something" had peaked and...

Dear Father, she had never felt anything like this! How she had gradually become more and more _aware_ of him. Of his... body. His warmth. She had felt herself sinking into him, losing herself in his eyes. The eyes she had suddenly feared to meet.

Could it be love? Could Baroness Schraeder be right? Oh, she knew she loved him. How could she _not_ love him? But was she _in_ love? What was the difference between the two?

The sensory memory of her hands in his, his hands in hers, of moving in total harmony with one another, of turning about and finding herself chest to chest with him, his face millimetres away from hers, his breath...

Maria shuddered to the core of her being. She had been overwhelmed by him; by his intensity, by his closeness. He had stirred something inside her, something she was inexplicably terrified that he saw...

But what was it?

She had never feared his intimacy. He communicated everything through his eyes, and it was immensely comforting to be held by them when they smiled at her or stared at her merrily. It was her most cherished privilege. To see him smile, to make him laugh. To make him happy. To _know_ him, because he was beautiful. All of him.

And tonight, for some reason, it had been _too_ _much_.

'_There's nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him.'_

Maria's breath caught.

Could it be _that_? That he was reacting to _her_ reaction to him?

'_Surely, you've noticed the way he looks into your eyes.'_

'_You blushed in his arms when you were dancing just now.'_

It was her fault then. She had... enticed him.

Good heavens, no! She had betrayed God and her vocation with this... feeling, whatever it was. She had confused him with her emotions and she had endangered his relationship with the Baroness. She had been sent here to prepare the children for a new mother and she had messed it all up...

May God forgive her! Yes, she _had_ to leave. Hopefully, no damage had been done. Everything would be all right for the Captain and the Baroness. They would make a happy family, with the children...

_...The children._

For the first time in ten years, Maria dissolved into tears and wept again. Wept out loud.

Peripherally, she heard the sound of a car approaching. She moved to the side of the road, irrationally afraid that it ran her over. Seconds later, the headlights fell upon her and she cowered instinctively, quickening her pace.

"Maria!"

Too wrapped up in her misery to hear the voice calling her name, Maria continued her fast walk, sniffling to clear her nose.

The car's brakes screeched to a halt and then there was the sound of a door being opened and then slammed closed.

"Fräulein!"

Hurried steps ran up to her, and a strong and yet gentle hand grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"Maria, stop."

Her eyes bulged and she let out a choking sound upon looking on that handsome face.

"Captain! W-What are you doing here?"

Breathless, Georg took in the shocked look in her eyes and the tears running down her cheeks, some lingering on her chin. He turned his hands into fists, fighting the urge to brush them away.

"What's the meaning of this, Fräulein?" he demanded to know, steeling his heart for the present. "What happened for you to leave this way?"

Avoiding his gaze nervously, Maria fumbled for words.

"I-I thought I'd explained everything in my letter, sir," she said at last.

"Forgive me but your letter didn't explain _anything_." Georg took one step closer. "It just said that you missed your life at the Abbey and that your time with us had come to an end." Once spoken aloud, her words made even less sense. "Why did you do it? And most of all, why _now_? Don't you see that what you're doing is foolhardy and potentially dangerous? What possessed you to run away in the middle of the night?" Indignation, hurt and worry battled for dominance inside him.

Maria shook her head, totally at a loss for words. She looked out into the darkness, begging for help.

"I'm not running away," she denied feebly. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't even think. Her arms felt heavy as lead, holding on to her guitar and her bag like lifesavers. She just wanted to disappear into thin air.

"You packed your things and left right after agreeing to go and change for dinner," Georg reminded her implacably. "You wrote a clumsy letter and left it on a table in the hall where anyone could find it. There's nothing premeditated in your actions. You *are* running away, Maria. This behaviour is unworthy of you." Seeing her shrink from his accusation, not daring to meet his eyes, hurt finally won. "My children adore you and they deserve better than this."

Maria's head snapped to him, eyes wide open with guilt, and renewed tears traced their path down her face.

"As for me..." Georg shrugged bitterly. "I think I deserved at least the dignity of being told face to face."

Untold regret and shame appeared on the youthful countenance, and for the first time, Maria sought his eyes. Georg could see her searching for a justification, but to his utter horror he saw something else beneath. Something he NEVER wanted to see in anybody's eyes when looking at him.

FEAR.

And he knew. He _had_ scared her away.

Backing off immediately, his voice died down.

"Unless..." he swallowed a burning lump in his throat, "unless it's something I've done." Timidly, he turned remorseful eyes to her. "Is it, Fräulein?"

"No!" Maria denied vehemently. "You did nothing, Captain. I am the one to blame. Only me."

"I can't think of anything you could possibly be blamed for, except maybe being too protective of the people you care about," Georg smiled poignantly. "I once told you to not spare my feelings, as I'm not afraid of facing the truth as hard as it is. And the truth is that I drove you away, didn't I?" He took another step forward.

"No!" Maria shook her head again fiercely, stumbling back half a step. "The truth is I care too much. And it's better for me to leave now before it becomes too painful. Before it's..." she looked down and shook her head in despair. "Before leaving you breaks my heart to pieces." Only after saying it did Maria realize how truthful her statement actually was. She bit her lips until the pain made her wince.

Rendered speechles by her confession, Georg's mouth fell open in astonishment. He took in her paleness, her shaking frame, the hopeless devastation her words conveyed; and his heart broke for her.

"The prospect of leaving us has been haunting you all this time, and you never told me just how much you were hurting. Why?"

Forcing herself to look at him – so strikingly dashing in his white tie dress, Baron Georg von Trapp, the aristocrat - Maria experienced a disorienting feeling of disconnection. What was this man doing, standing in the middle of a road at night, talking to an orphan postulant with nowhere to go, wearing a hideous, shabby ensemble that not even a poor would want? The mere notion was surreal, ridiculous. _She_ was ridiculous.

"There was nothing you could have done," she shrugged in defeat. "There's nothing _anyone_ can do." Her eyes skittered around in apprehension, until they had to choice but return to him. "I must go back where I belong."

"To live a life of seclusion you're seriously questioning right now?" Georg's logic was relentless. "That's not a very clever decision."

"And going back hom- t-to the villa is?" Maria would have kicked herself for her foolish lapse. "Do you know what you're asking me to do?" her face reddened in self-disgust.

Her mental slip didn't go unnoticed by Georg. He smiled tenderly.

"You just answered your own question. You wouldn't be going back to the villa. You would be going back _home_. _Your_ home. With us." He took a deep, steadying breath. "Is that what you want? Is that what your heart wants?"

Maria bit her lower lip again and closed her eyes, shaking her head in anguish.

"Don't be afraid of facing the truth, Fräulein," Georg's voice turned into a soft, caressing whisper. "I know it's frightening, I know it must feel like a betrayal. But you have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all, believe me."

Maria squeezed her eyes shut harder. How? How did this man do it? How did he seem to be able to read her inside out and always find something of value? How could he find anything worthwhile even in her insecurities?

How could anyone be so full of compassion and understanding?

"I-I can't," she stuttered.

The brief pause that followed felt daunting, unnerving. Oppresive.

"Look at me."

The earnestness in his request was impossible to ignore, and Maria raised her eyes to his.

"Is it because of what happened during the Läendler?"

Maria's heart started racing savagely.

Georg edged infinitesimally closer, feeling that the nearer to her he was the closer he was to uncovering the truth. The truth that was begging to be acknowledged before it was too late.

And just like every single time he looked into her eyes, every time he saw himself reflected in those warm pools of non-judgmental innocence, so accepting and pure, and yet so full of an innate strength and wisdom that never failed to humble him, Georg felt himself falling into her like the sea to the shore.

Inexorably. Naturally.

Coming home. To her. _With_ her.

"Is it because of what we feel every time we look into each other's eyes? Like right now?"

Rooted to the ground, unable to move, unable to _breathe_, Maria shuddered helplessly.

His eyes, his voice, all of him. Nothing existed in the universe but him. He was... _everything_. And everything inside her was responding to him, wanting to merge with him. To belong _with_ him. Forever.

She shuddered again, petrified; overcome by this feeling she'd never known before. Her vision blurred and she felt the pricking pain behind her eyes and nose once more.

"Is _this_ what you're running away from?" his head tipped to one side unthreateningly as he moved one centimetre, one lifetime closer.

The wetness rolled down her cheeks one more time.

An iron fist clenched around Georg's heart, and he surrendered.

"May I touch you, Maria?" he asked hoarsely, bringing one hand up.

The crystal blue eyes staring up at him were so unguarded, so vulnerable... The fist tightened even more.

"Please?" he entreated.

And then, he saw it. The abandoned acquiescence. No will left to fight.

Just like him.

His hand crossed the few centimetres separating it from her cheek and his middle fingertip settled on the tear streaming down by her mouth.

A whimpering sob left her throat and Georg's skin filled with goosebumps.

"Shhhh," he soothed her, allowing his remaining fingertips to join in and wipe away the wetness there. A little smile, full of peace and contentment, appeared on his face.

_He_ was home.

_She_ was home.

_They_ were home.

Seconds, minutes, hours seemed to pass, as Georg's caressing fingertips gave way to the backs of his fingers roaming all over the pale face. Cheeks, chin; her temples, her forehead... Over and over. Never wanting to stop.

Until he saw it.

Maria had closed her eyes again and her head was moving, accompanying his caresses all over her face. Giving herself. To him.

Needing this as much as he did.

'_God help me,'_ Georg cried out in his mind, sliding his fingertips across her lips for the first time.

The chills running up and down his body threatened his tenuous control, until Maria let out a keening wail and her knees buckled.

Quick as lightning, Georg wrapped his arms around her and held her securely against him. Her hat fell to the ground, as did her guitar and her bag, slipping from her nerveless hands.

Georg cradled her in the warmth of his embrace, feeling something he had thought dead and gone for good blossom in his chest again with a passion and a purpose that obliterated everything he'd ever known.

"Dear Lord!" Maria exclaimed incredulously, the side of her head resting on his shoulder. "How can this be happening to me?"

"Amen," Georg whispered to himself, resting his own head on top of hers and losing himself in the feel of her.

They lost track of time, they lost all awareness of where they were. Nothing existed on Earth but the two of them, wrapped in each other's arms; healing and being healed, loving and being loved.

Slowly, languidly, Georg raised one hand and carded his fingers through the short blonde hair, feeling it tickle him like the softest silk.

"My darling," he murmured, kissing the temple beneath his lips. "At last I found you. At last I'm home again."

"Oh, me too. Me too!" Maria moaned, grasping the back of his jacket and squeezing hard, as if afraid he would slip through _her_ fingers.

"I'm here, my love. I'm here, forever," Georg vowed fervently, tightening his hug even more.

The quivering sigh that escaped her was almost too much, and he cupped her head in the palm of his hand, holding it to him.

"So this is it. This is how it is," the sheer wonder in her shaky voice tore at Georg's heartstrings. He wondered if it was possible for one heart to explode with tenderness.

"Yes, this is _it_," he confirmed, glorying in the overwhelming flood of emotions consuming him.

Sighing again, Maria burrowed her face into his shoulder, never wanting to come out.

Georg smiled serenely, burying his nose in her hair.

"Let me take you home?" he asked into her ear an eon later.

Hugging him closer in a final bout of need, Maria nodded assent.

Georg watched her moving back bit by bit until she was looking up at him. He took in her swollen and reddened eyes and he brought his hand around, wiping the tears lingering on her eyelashes and her cheeks, biting back the impulse to cover her entire face with kisses.

Instead, he reached down, took her small hand in his and pulled her gently towards the car. Stumbling a little on unsteady legs, Maria's eyes fell upon her carpet bag next to her and she bent down to retrieve it. Then, she looked to her left, looking for her guitar.

"Allow me," Georg leaned down and picked up her hat, passing it on to her. Then he made for the guitar case.

Exchanging an adoring look, they walked hand in hand to the car. Georg put the guitar on the back seat and then the bag Maria handed him shyly.

Maria stared at him in a daze, as if she couldn't believe what was happening. Taking her hand once more, Georg opened the passenger door for her. Lowering her gaze modestly, she slipped into the seat.

Georg closed the door and walked over to the other side of the car, opening the driver's door and sitting at the wheel. Slamming the door shut, he started the Mercedes and after a few deft manoeuvres, he changed direction, driving back to the villa.

Maria sat still for half a minute, looking down into her lap, fingering the brim of her hat, too in awe of what had just transpired to move or even turn her eyes to him.

But then, an open hand entered her line of vision, took hers and delicately interlaced their fingers, squeezing them in firm reassurance.

In a burst of desperate urgency, Maria covered the back of his hand with her own, clinging to it for dear life.

'_Tell me I'm not dreaming. Please, tell me I'm not dreaming!'_ her mind cried out.

And Georg squeezed her hand again in a wordless pledge.

* * *

The Mercedes crossed the villa's gates and headed for the garage. Once parked inside, Georg turned off the car.

The sudden silence felt heavy and awkward, and Maria stared at their joined hands in trepidation.

Georg reached out and held her chin in his free hand, turning it towards him.

"Here we are," he announced needlessly with a smile so full of love that Maria shivered.

"Are you ready?"

Meeting the breathtakingly intense blue depths, Maria nodded.

"Good," Georg's eyes moved all over her face until they settled on her lips. Unconsciously, he licked his own and, as if drawn by an invisible force, he began to bend forward.

The involuntary twitch of Maria's fingers brought him back to reality with a start. Pulling himself together, he smiled at her again and with a final squeeze, he extricated his hand from between her own. Automatically, it turned into a fist as if seeking comfort for the loss of her touch.

Dear God, it physically _hurt_ to be apart from her.

Inhaling deeply, he swiftly opened his door and exited the car. Hurrying to the passenger's side, he opened the door for her and closed it when she got out.

Stunned beyond belief, Maria took her carpet bag from his hand when he gave it back to her, and followed him out of the garage after he grabbed her guitar case.

As they walked together under the stars, she was struck again by the weirdness of the moment. Her eyes turned to his magnificent form, impossibly elegant and good-looking. Never in her entire life she had known a man so beautiful inside and outside. Her heart constricted with the physical need of him that suddenly assaulted her. She _ached_ for him. For his touch, his warmth, his immense capacity to love and the ways he showed his love.

The contrast between them was staggering. She couldn't help a fast look down at herself and her attire, and then back at the... princely gentleman beside her. She gulped. As juvenile as the concept was, the image of Cinderella in rags and the fairytale Prince came to mind, instantly reminding her of her position in relation to his.

What _was _she? What did she have to offer that he would need to live a plentiful and fulfilling life? Everything felt... preposterous. Grotesque.

A horrible feeling of loneliness descended on her and she shrank from it, consequently lagging behind him.

On his part, Georg was totally focused on his own thoughts, pondering a dozen different scenarios and alternatives - what he would say, how he would explain his prolonged absence when he returned to the dinner table; and more importantly, how he would approach Elsa later on, how he would break the news and try to ease the blow. So much to contemplate, so many things to deal with. But it was his responsibility because it was _his_ fault, for allowing the situation to get this far to begin with, when - being honest with himself - this feeling had taken permanent residence in his heart, his soul and his blood some time ago.

It was ridiculously ironic. He was going to break their engagement when there had been NO proposal yet, and after what to all intents and purposes was a society engagement party.

He shook his head, gathering his thoughts and concentrating on the matter at hand. He _would_ straighten up the mess he had helped to create and be truthful to himself and his feelings, while trying to do his best to spare the feelings of the woman who had been the most patient, supportive friend when he'd needed it the most, but that at the end of the day, that's _exactly_ what she was. A dear, beloved _friend_.

Even deep in thought, he had prudently avoided the main entrance to the villa, choosing a lateral door on the east wing instead. He commended himself for his unintentional foresight.

Thankfully, the door wasn't locked, and he pushed it open all the way.

"Have you ever used this door?" he asked Maria, turning to her.

Biting her lower lip, somewhat crestfallen, Maria shook her head.

Georg moved aside so she could look inside.

"Walk down this corridor and you'll see a narrow staircase at the end of it," he instructed. "Climb it to the second level and you'll find another door. Open it and you'll be in the same corridor where the nursery is."

"Oh," that was all Maria could articulate. The villa was more a castle than a mansion, with side doors and staircases that led to the same places through different routes. It aroused her curiosity and her adventurous spirit. She gave a passing thought to her incredible boldness when she'd first arrived and dared to open the first door she'd seen and sneak a peek inside. Looking back, it had been one of her most unfortunate moments and the memory brought with it a definite feeling of embarrassment.

She _had_ changed in those few months indeed. And in more ways than she was probably aware of.

"I know this has been a very difficult day for you and your nerves must be on edge," Georg's sympathetic words snapped her out of her ruminations but didn't ease the disturbing feeling of disconnection. Something she had never felt about this place... or him. She held back a shudder and forced herself to look up at him.

His features were gentle and affectionate as he handed her her guitar. Maria hardly felt the brush of his fingers and something wilted inside her.

"Try to get some sleep," he advised kindly. "Everything will be sorted out by morning."

For an instant it seemed like he was going to say something more, but when he didn't, Maria felt all but dismissed. With a final nod, she lowered her head, all of a sudden wanting to get inside the house. It was cold out here.

"Good night," she muttered wistfully, half-turning and beginning to cross the door.

Without warning, a strong, resolute arm wrapped itself around her waist and turned her back to him. Maria found herself all pressed up to his front, and the immediate rush that suffused her was like coming back to life after withering away in a dark corner.

She trembled delightfully as she faced the heart-stopping fire blazing in his eyes.

"Tomorrow," Georg began in a husky voice full of promise, "tomorrow I will come to you as a free man, and I'll be able to show you just _how much_ you meant to me. I'll do _everything_ in my power to convince you that I'm as yours as you are mine. Alone and unloved no more, my treasure. We'll belong to each other for all eternity, that is my oath to you."

Maria lost herself in a haze of delicious shivering. Feelings unlike anything life had prepared her for sizzled through her, and she feared she would pass out.

Then, Georg brought his other hand to his own lips and kissed the pad of his forefinger. Pinning her under a searing look that would melt the Sun itself, he put his finger to her lips and moved it all over their surface until there wasn't a single spot that was left deprieved of his touch.

"Sweet dreams, my beautiful one," he whispered to her. And his voice felt like a tangible caress all over her body.

It was like he was embedding himself into her soul, and surrendering herself to him and every feeling he stirred in her, Maria kissed his fingertip, closing her eyes and offering all that she was in return.

Georg let out an audible hiss and his grip around her waist tightened with a spasm. Her eyes remained closed, her lips still tickling his finger. His touch was life, and love, and heaven on earth. And she'd die if he let go.

"My God," Georg threw his head back, looking up in supplication. "Do you know how hard it is to let you go?"

Feeling the burning sting of tears under her eyelids, Maria rested her forehead on his chest with a heartbreaking sigh.

"Are you hurting everywhere, like I am?" she asked candidly, opening her innocent heart out to him.

"I am bleeding inside, my love," Georg's roughened voice was a telltale sign that he was fighting a battle with himself.

"D-Do you promise to hold me like this tomorrow?" Maria felt like a child, talking like this, begging to be hugged and loved. But having her eyes closed somehow freed her from all conventionalism. It freed her to ask for what she needed. For she could feel through every pore of her excruciatingly sensitized skin, that her needs were understood and above all, _respected_.

"I _swear_ it, my angel. For the rest of our lives."

There was a truth, a devotion, an integrity that resonated between their bodies when they were in each other's arms that was inescapable, irrevocable. And Maria _believed_ in that truth; in the perfect completeness they had found in one another.

"Thank You," she breathed out in a fervent prayer.

"No, my darling," Georg choked out, misunderstanding her for the first time, "thank *_you_*."

Smiling peacefully, Maria snuggled up to him one last time before making herself move back. Her eyes roved all over his face, committing to memory every tiny little detail. He was so beautiful that she felt _pain_. Even the scar under his lower lip added something to his features that made him look... Unreal. So handsome that her heart started pounding wildly.

But his eyes... The moment their eyes met, it was... like coming home. Like finding the only niche in the world where you _fit in_. Where nothing is too much or too little. Where every part of you fits the other as if you two were _meant_ to be.

She was so full... So full of love and joy... Nothing seemed able to contain so much happiness, such sublime exultation of the spirit.

She broke out into a smile that was born from the deepest core of her being, and found its reflection in the spine-tingling smile that lit up Georg's face.

Utterly enthralled, Georg released her; and clinging to her eyes seemed to be the only way to let go.

Once she was inside, and feeling they were about to lose visual contact, the words were just torn from him.

"I love you."

Maria quivered from head to foot, but instead of feeling faint, his passionate declaration only gave her the strength she needed to return to her room.

And also...

"I love you."

Her calm admission seemed to linger soothingly in the air between them, and on the wings of their mutual vow, she disappeared into the house.

Georg stood where he was for long, endless moments, basking in the fragrant beauty she had left behind, that was wrapping itself around him, warming him, bringing him back to life, to love... to God.

His right hand raised of its own volition to his heart, and pressed hard against it.

"Thank You," he closed his eyes humbly, with infinite gratitude.

And with a deep intake of breath, he straightened up, squared his shoulders and strode to the main entrance to the mansion.

THE END.


End file.
